


When We Write About Love

by tinycupoftea



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Coming Out, F/F, First Kiss, Slow Burn, but she will surprise herself, hair praise, lesbian poetry, marilla is unaware of her own feelings, muriel knows she has feelings for marilla, theyre too cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:53:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24561121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinycupoftea/pseuds/tinycupoftea
Summary: Lately, Muriel finds herself dwelling in doubts about her new way of life, afraid her need for companionship will overcome her vow to herself.Writing poems was always her main outlet for confusing feelings, but what does it mean when she starts writing about graying dark locks of hair made of night?
Relationships: Marilla Cuthbert/Muriel Stacy
Comments: 15
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, by no means, I am a poem writer or any writer as it is. Hopefully, you'll forgive any role breaking in that department.  
> When you have a certain fantasy about the characters you love, you should go after it, no? And I love them both deeply.
> 
> Please, if you spot any grammar mistakes be kind to point them out to me in the comments. English is not my first language so I'm always striving to get better at it.
> 
> Enjoy!

_Eyes fixed on a faraway memory  
Washed away by the afternoon glow  
Reach to it and it will fade  
Yet, the decision was already made  
Eyes fixed to a wall_

Muriel found herself writing swiftly as heavy tears fell down from her eyes on the delicate parchment paper, staining and blurring her heart's whispers of an early afternoon. 

This yellowing notebook in her hand, she kept from her youth. It used to be her closest confidant. She would write down her thoughts and troubles as poems, since she always thought they were the best way to communicate your heart on paper.

Lately, Muriel finds herself sitting in her bedroom with this notebook too frequently to her liking. Yet, it is different this time. As usual she is staring at the wall, her blank canvas that waits to absorb her memories and thoughts, but she is silent. There is no hysterical spill of bottled up feelings; her tears are flowing down and the only sound in the room is her shallow breath. Today, her resolve is stronger. Thank heavens for small mercies.

She couldn't admit it for a long time. She wouldn't, for she knew for certain that a year of grief left her stronger and more determined to taste something else from life. When she came to Avonlea - ran away to, to be more precise – she vowed to herself to store all her grief and youthful musings of romance away in the depths of her heart and forcefully changed her perspective. It worked very well, for a time. In the beginning, she had to remind herself over and over again of her inner vow. Expectedly, time and focus made keeping it easier and for the next months, her decision to dedicate herself to her pupils, but mostly – to herself, was easier to execute. Now though, since it was harvest time and there was no school to focus on, she felt the loneliness creep on her once more. She was scared all progress she made was lost.

Now, the image of Jonah was a constant presence in her mind, although more as a symbol of her long-gone happiness than the result of plain longing. What she and Jonah had was wonderful and magical, a companionship of truly equal individuals that she was eternally grateful for experiencing. Nevertheless, it was crucial to start over. Jonah was there since her youthful years, for most of her life. It was only natural that after his untimely death, she replaced her grief with a quest to find out who Muriel Stacey was without any strings attached to her. That's to say that her life's chapter of adventurous romance is sealed. For good.

Sometimes she wondered if she was enough for herself, but as rapidly as this notion would form in her head she would clear it away. She knew it was a silly insecurity, but it bothered her when it raised its ugly head, disturbing her peace and awakening long ago buried self-doubts. Nevertheless, she couldn't deny that her self-resolve was cracking – She was indeed longing. Longing, for long intelligent conversations by a fire. For afternoon walks in nature, while holding a warm hand in her own. For secret glances while others were around, holding private jokes and intimate promises. Oh, she longed for intimacy most of all; not physical intimacy really, but for those moments of true, unyieldingly strong love shared between two individuals. 

But she made her decision and she will stick to it. All moments of weakness will soon pass. At least she hoped they will.

Well, better not sit around here moping the rest of the day away in my miserable thoughts, she thought to herself. Sighing deeply, she packed her notebook and pen away from sight, put on a hat and went out to the beautiful countryside surrounding her house.  
Spring was something else in Avonlea. If there's one thing she didn't miss at all about her old life was the hustle and bustle of big cities. The magic of a landscape would always appeal more to her, and now it provided her with a well-welcomed distraction from the storm in her mind. The air held the sweet smell of spring bloom wherever you went in Avonlea; she could almost sense the delicate caress of the white petals from the apple tree blooms on her heart, charging it with an unexplainable current. She felt her resolve strengthen – nature was on her side. 

The day was unusually hot but she found she liked the slight change in climate. Her legs carried her of their own accord on the path to Green Gables. That place always made Muriel's heart swell up with happiness. The Cuthberts were among the first folks in the community to accept her fully as she was. Anne Shirley Cuthbert and her connected immediately, "kindred spirits" as Anne liked to name them. Their similarities were too profound to ignore, yet in the beginning, she did aim to ignore them so as to not be suspected of favoritism. Anne didn't though, and after a while, Muriel was thankful for that.

Matthew and Marilla, bless them, were so good to dear Anne. She learned the story of how they came to be a family not long after her arrival and was deeply touched. She admired how readily they took Anne in, fighting off the narrow-minded stigma that hunted her at the beginning of her life in Avonlea. She and Matthew shared a friendship that relied a lot on their passion for tinkering at first, yet nowadays they enjoyed the good talk even more. She saw him as an adorable and kind fatherly figure, the one you could share ideas and passions with and always have his smile of enthusiasm and endless support behind you. That's what he was to her and she knew, to Anne as well.

Marilla, well. She was a bit of a mystery to Muriel. She remembers their first meeting when Mrs. Rachel Lynde barged in one afternoon with Marilla in taw. Marilla's reserved respectful demeanor towards her barely hid away her curiosity while taking in the sight of a disheveled Muriel in a pair of trousers. It seemed Marilla had a witty and sharp tongue as well and she wouldn't hold it back if some unjust or out of line comment was made. When Mrs. Lynde waved the "spinster" title over Muriel's head, she could detect the notion hurt Marilla but she kept her stoic nature and shot back a sassy comment. As time went by, she found that Marilla was indeed a strict and practical woman, but surprisingly more open-minded than one would guess. Marilla held her love and care for her family and friends above all else and constantly strived to learn more so she'd be a better mother to Anne; something not many would consider doing actively for their children. Marilla wouldn't shy away from what she felt was right, no matter what others in the community thought, which was a huge point to her character by Muriel's opinion. She also found Marilla easy to talk to; she relished on Marilla's life experience and on the fact they both could provide proper advice to each other when needed. It seemed, although they both come from different worlds, that they understood each other very well.

As she came to stand in front of the white gate, she spotted Anne and their helper boy (Jerry, was it?) walking to the cornfields of the farm with an impressive amount of baskets clutched between their hands. Were they harvesting the corn crops?, The thought excited Muriel. She had never participated in proper farm work before. She would milk the cows occasionally as a child at her aunt's farm, but that was the extent of her experience. Well, since she has nothing better to do today, she might as well lend a hand and learn some useful skills. 

She followed the path the children took and reached the edge of the maize field, when something made her stop. Or more accurately, someone. Marilla stood in between two rows of long maize stems, a basket in one hand and the other wiping at her forehead furiously. Her smock coat was tied around her waist and her shirt, usually bottomed up to her neck, was undone slightly, revealing a glimpse of her collar bone and simple chemise. Her sleeves were rolled up to reveal thin, yet strong, forearms. However, what astonished Muriel the most was under Marilla's hat – her graying hair wasn't up in its usual bun, but braided messily and flowing down behind her. It reached her mid-back, forming a silky and shining thick braid with tips as dark as the winter sky. She looked tired. She looked different. She looked free.

Muriel probably gasped audibly at the unexpected encounter, since Marilla turned to her direction with wide eyes and dropped her basket. "Oh my word, Muriel! What- what are you doing here?", she asked with confusion while circling her arms around herself, her tune barely covering her embarrassment at being seen in this state of disarray.  
"Oh, I was just passing by and noticed you all were in the midst of harvesting. I wanted to see if I could land a hand" she replied shyly noting, fearfully, that a blush is creeping up her own cheeks. "If that's acceptable, obviously", She hoped her tone of voice was crisp enough to not betray any of her own embarrassment.

"Oh. Yes, yes, of course," Marilla waved her comment dismissively, "Of course that's acceptable. Grab a basket" she pointed to a pile of empty baskets on her side. Muriel was quick to do so and started pulling enthusiastically on an ear of corn, huffing and puffing with no luck, when she heard a small chuckle from her right. Marilla was doing her best not to laugh, but when Muriel stared at her in confusion, it broke the dam; Soon they were both laughing heartedly and Marilla, out of breath with tears in her eyes, demonstrated the proper technique for plucking corn ears. Muriel watched her intently, yet concentration was lacking since her stomach was swarming with butterflies set free by hearing that new melody that was Marilla's rich laughter.

The daylight was soon running out, too soon for Muriel's liking. She and Marilla worked side by side for a few hours, all the while telling each other their histories. Marilla wasn't one to share much usually, especially not inner struggles, but she found that when talking to Muriel, it seemed to flow out effortlessly; it felt easy and safe. She told Muriel how her entire fate changed when her older brother died and how it was difficult to raise Matthew while watching their mother waste away. That woman's strength blew Muriel's mind away and she couldn't wait to discover more sides of her. Right around when they were sharing a laugh on one of the many awkward teaching accidents Muriel had when she was new to the profession, Matthew came around and announced that they were done for today. 

As they were storing the baskets and tools away, Muriel noticed Marilla's contemplating glances towards her, as though there was something she wanted to say but was hesitant to voice. Eventually, they found themselves facing each other, Muriel waiting intently to see if Marilla will spill it out or turn to leave. To her delight, Marilla took a chance. "Thank you for joining today" she said carefully, "It has been some time since I felt I could be...myself." she finished slowly, averting her eyes away. Muriel understood instantly what Marilla had meant; being around her family, she probably felt she needed to be in control all the time. The pressure of presenting a suitable motherly figure to Anne and her older-sister nature with Matthew meant she wasn't showing much of her true emotions and troubles. To Muriel, it felt utterly lonely. 

Before Muriel could hold back, she took Marilla's hands in her own. "I had a great time today, myself" she smiled widely, feeling the heat between her palms press back on her hold, "Thank you for letting me do that for you". Marilla stood still and looked at her with wide-eyes. Muriel nearly lost herself in their blue depths, until the ringing of the dinner bell called her back to reality. In an instant, Marilla retrieved her hands from Muriel's hold and bid her farewell, looking anywhere but at Muriel. Before Muriel could comprehend it, she heard herself say, "I'll see you tomorrow morning in the field, then?". A bit too hopeful, and certainly desperate. she was pushing her luck, she knew. Marilla halted at the door and turned back, "I'll be there at seven-thirty".

Muriel sat back in her desk chair first thing as she got back to her house. She didn't want to lose a single word that was forming in her head. Taking out the notebook and pen from their hiding place, she began to write swiftly:

_Out there, out of sight  
Stands a lady with locks made of night  
Her eyes twinkling and her smile sure  
She is filled with freedom as I never seen before_

Tonight, she knew, there would be no tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is still growing and evolving. I'm currently in the mids of the third chapter, so there's no real ending planned yet. If you, dear reader, can see a clearer vision of the way it ends (happily ever after, because I can't take any more death stories), make sure to suggest it.  
> What a wondrous journey!


	2. Chapter 2

For the next week, Muriel's day developed a new routine; she would rise at sunrise, put on her work trousers and hat and head out to Green Gables for breakfast (per Marilla's insistent request) before accompanying the Cuthberts in the various chores around the farm. Her days were so busy that her mind pushed all her troubles aside, not leaving her with enough energy to take out her notebook and pen from their hiding place at the end of the day. She would help Anne and Jerry with harvesting the potato crops most of the week and in the spare time, she would lend a hand to Matthew with fixing essential farm equipment. Although she enjoyed spending time with all of them immensely, her mind kept circling back to a certain memory; she barely saw Marilla the whole week. Since that day at the cornfield, their natural dynamic was something she longed for and she was willing to take any opportunity to spent time only in her company.

Today was Thursday, and it started like any other day in the past week. The only difference was that nagging sense of panic that sat in the pit of her stomach after entering the kitchen of Green Gables. Something was off. Anne was with her back to the door, busy with setting the table for breakfast. Only, her movements were sloppy as if her limbs had a mind of their own and her clothes and hair looked more disheveled than, well, usual.

"Good morning, Anne" greeted Muriel carefully, as to not startle the girl out of her mind. Anne turned to face her and what Muriel saw sent a wave of dread to her core. Anne's eyes were red and her cheeks wet, as if she'd been crying for hours on end. But what shocked Muriel was the look in her eyes; they held such profound sorrow, the kind she never imagined seeing in Anne's eyes.

"What happened?" she asked with urgency. Anne, who opened her mouth to answer, let out a choked sob instead. Muriel rushed to her side, putting a hand on her shoulder and patting her back comfortingly. This situation worried her deeply – Anne was known to be a tad overdramatic and emotional in responding to different circumstances, but this seemed serious. Way more serious than her usual romantic youthful tragedies.

Between choked sobs, Anne explained what had happened; Yesterday evening, right after they finished working the farm that day, Marilla and Matthew argued about something Anne didn't catch. It probably was quite the heated argument, since Matthew collapsed in the midst of it. Anne confessed to Muriel that Matthew had an ongoing heart problem and since the last, almost fatal, episode they were trying hard to avoid putting any unnecessary emotional strain on him. After calming Anne down, she asked about Marilla's well being. Anne confirmed as she suspected, that Marilla sat by his bedside the whole night and hadn't come out of the room once. "Miss Stacy, maybe you could convince her to come out for breakfast at least? I think she'll listen to reason when you'll voice it" she requested hopefully. Muriel couldn't refuse her, of course.

She opened the door to the dimly-lit bedroom quietly. Marilla was sitting on a wooden chair facing the bed in the center of the room, her back to the door. She barely acknowledged the quiet creek of the door hinges, only turned her face slightly for a moment. 

"How is he?" Muriel asked tentatively. No response. _That bad? Christ_ , she signed internally. She moved closer, until she was standing right behind the chair. Her hand went to hold Marilla's slightly trembling sharp shoulder. As soon as her hand made contact, Marilla lifted her face to meet hers.

She was crying. Marilla Cuthbert was crying. Her deep blue eyes were red and swollen by tiredness and tears, pleading and desperate. That look made Muriel's heart throb so painfully, she was certain there never was an instance in her lifetime she felt an ache like this. She never expected to see Marilla so... Broken. Lost. Afraid.

Muriel bent down right when a new wave of heart-wrenching sobs rolled out from Marilla and she embraced her tightly to muffle their sound. Marilla cried on Muriel's chest, her tears soaking through Muriel's shirt while her hands clutched it, holding on for dear life.

"It's all my fault...It's all my fault!" she cried out, weeping. "If I could just not be so darn harsh and stubborn for once" she whimpered and buried her face further into Muriel's chest, "If only I could have been less...unfeeling" she confessed. "What? No, Marilla! This is not your fault at all. Matthew is sick. It's an unpredictable condition. There's no way you could've known..." Muriel hoped that she sound convincing enough so some words of logic will penetrate through Marilla's guilt. "And unfeeling? That's absurd! You have so much love for your family, Marilla. You always care so deeply, so unconditionally, even if you think it is unnoticeable. But it is. I see it and I admire you even more for it".  
Her words probably caught Marilla's attention, since her crying subsided tremendously after Muriel finished talking and stopped completely a short while after. She didn't let Muriel go for a long while, though. Her breathing leveled, leaving gentle whispers on Muriel's skin through her blouse. It was a very bizarre sensation, but wonderful. Muriel was drawing random patterns on Marilla's back, noting that Marilla's breath hitched almost unnoticeably when she went over a particular spot on her middle back. Her cheek was resting on the top of Marilla's head, the faint smell of lavender traveling from her hair to tickle Muriel's nose. It was as if they were frozen in time, intertwined souls out of place in this reality, the energy between them not of this world. Muriel found that she wished they could stay like that for eternity. That moment, special and precious enough to fill her up entirely and push away her loneliness. 

Marilla's hands released the fabric on her back, she noted sadly, realizing that probably meant their special moment is coming to an end. To her surprise, instead of pushing away, Marilla's hands traveled upwards. They danced gently, caressing her spine slowly on their way and coming to rest on her shoulders, putting light pressure on her muscles. Muriel found that motion so daring and intimate and anticipation fired her curiosity. Right then it was clear to her; Marilla's touch made her entire being burn with that _hidden something_ she was craving. 

Yet, now was not the time to explore this further. She released Marilla gently and pulled her up. "Let's go to the kitchen. You should eat something" she said. When Marilla opened her mouth to protest she added, "It won't do anyone any good if you'll fall ill as well". She motioned her to the door, closing it behind as quietly as possible, not before glancing sadly back at the resting form in the bed. _Oh Matthew, please don't give up. Fight, for your girls._

After breakfast, Anne went out to ask for some help for the day with the harvesting duties. "Mr. Barry won't refuse to lend a few hands for a couple of days", she said to Marilla as she was putting on her coat. "Please Marilla, go and rest. Me and Jerry will take care of everything" she pecked her cheek goodbye and was out and running before Marilla got a chance to challenge her confidence. Marilla barely touched anything on her plate, Muriel noted, and was too pale for her liking. 

"Fine, then" Muriel declared after getting up from the table, "Let's get you to bed". Marilla looked up at her, surprised. Muriel knew she was pushing the limits of propriety in Marilla's mind, but she couldn't care less. Right now, it was too obvious that if she won't take charge and take care of her, Marilla won't, too. Marilla, for her part, signed in defeat. "Well, I guess there's no point in persuading you differently" she replied with half a smile. Yes, there wasn't.

They went up the stairs slowly while Muriel held Marilla's side insistently to offer extra support for the exhausted woman. She followed Marilla in the bedroom and took a moment to inspect her surroundings; As all of Green Gables, the room was simple and contained the bare necessities; an armchair next to a large bed and a dresser-vanity of rich, brown walnut wood were the large pieces that took dominance over the room. It was simple, almost devoid of any personality, but still held a quiet elegance derived from the shades of blue of the arm chair fabric and bed cover. The only unexpected item was a hand-drawn portrait of Anne that was hanging on the far wall next to the bed. For some reason, the room made her feel calm instantly and she drank the change in air in. Only, that the serenity was disturbed by the sound of Marilla clearing her throat. She looked rather uncomfortable, waiting for Muriel to get her message. "Oh, right. You need to change" she felt heat rise to her cheeks by that notion, "Call me when you're done" she said and stepped out rapidly to save herself from further embarrassment. 

A few minutes later, a soft voice called her name from the other side of the door. When she came in, she found Marilla fumbling with her hair, trying to unpin it with trembling hands. "It happens when I'm too tired and nervous" she told Muriel with frustration. Muriel sat on the bed next to her and removed her hands away gently, noticing that Marilla was quite tense. She started removing the pins one by one, revealing more and more of that beautiful raven hair of hers. Soon it flowed down her back in waves, thick and magical. It gave Muriel a thrill.

"Muriel, would you..." Marilla stammered, sounding uncharacteristically shy, "Would you mind putting it into a braid for me? I'm afraid I'm not quite up to it..." she trailed off, her tone betraying away her shame at not being able to perform such a simple task on her own. 

"I'd be delighted" Muriel said, her body lighting with anticipation. She positioned herself behind Marilla and began combing through the strands with her fingers. With every brush Muriel became bolder; her fingers searched deeper in Marilla's hair, until they found their purchase in her scalp and she began to massage it lightly. At first contact, Marilla's shoulder's tensed with the shock of the new sensation, but soon after she melted into the touches. They became deeper and deeper, until both of Muriel's hands were drawing circles on her scalp, sometimes applying more pressure, sometimes caressing her only barely. Muriel noticed Marilla's breathing also became deeper, vibrating through her whole body up to Muriel's fingertips. She felt a pleasant tingle in the base of her spine when a certain touch made Marilla let out a quiet moan. It was barely heard, and she was sure Marilla didn't notice it escaped, so lost she was in those new, pleasant sensations. Marilla's moans became more and more noticeable as Muriel became more and more persistent in her touches. Her curiosity was determined to evoke as many shades of these delicious sounds as she could possibly manage.

Yet, her logic told her otherwise. She gradually stopped her exploration and went to part the strands. She laced them to each other with care, as if they were made of the finest silk in the world. And to Muriel, they were. 

"All done" she said in a slightly strained voice, sounding as far away as her mind was. She motioned to sit next to Marilla again, and when she did their gazes met. Marilla's cheeks were flushed in deep crimson and her eyes, usually clear ocean blue and calm were dark and mysterious, looking back at Muriel with something she could not fathom. Marilla took her hand and pulled it to her lap, intertwining their fingers. "Thank you, Muriel" she said sincerely. She hesitated a moment before leaning in to plant a kiss on Muriel cheek, catching her by surprise. Her soft lips only stayed there for a moment, but it felt as if they left an indent in Muriel's skin for life.

Muriel left when Marilla was safely asleep in her bed. Although she insisted on staying, she was chased away by Rachel who came to look after Matthew per Anne's request. Muriel reckoned it was best, since she indeed had a lot to process. 

She sat at her desk with her notebook and pen in her hand. She was writing slowly, caressing every curve made by the needle as if it could absorb the swirl of warm sensation that surged like a current through her body.

_Lavender strands caressed by sunlight  
They never knew how to dance  
Soft and strong as her own brave heart  
Whisper sweetly for it to take a chance  
Let go, so to let it soar  
To meet your awakened passion in a whirl_

At least, that was what she wished for in that moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, this week and the next are going to be very exhausting and busy and I don't believe I'll have time to write much :( I'm currently in the mids of the forth part and I think I'll add two more chapters, making it a six-chapter long creation.  
> Btw, I forgot to wish you all Happy Pride month! I hope that regardless of what is going on today in the world, you're all celebrating yourselves.  
> celebrate love and equality, not hate.


	3. Chapter 3

Summer was nearing to its end – tomorrow Muriel will be addressed as "Miss Stacy" around the clock by 12 new youngsters. For the time in her career, she found disappointment nudged between the many emotions she always experienced at this time of year. She was indeed happy about going back, as she missed the children and her education work more than enough to spent the bulk of her time planning out new lesson plans and science experiments for the past two weeks. Nevertheless, the remaining of her time was spent at Green Gables, usually visiting for afternoon tea with Marilla or to land a hand around the farm. The bursting anticipation for her daily meeting with Marilla would make her work with such efficiency it was startling her a bit. Now that the new year will begin, she knew their afternoon meetings would probably not occur that often, if at all. If she was being honest with herself, she wasn't ready to accept this impending change in their newfound routine. 

It was a hard time for the Cuthberts. Matthew was recovering slowly, thank heavens, yet his absence put a strain on the workload Marilla and the children needed to do, even with the limited help from Mr. Berry and her own landed hand.

Marilla looked positively worn out by the end of it, balancing bravely the extra work on the farm with her usual obligations around the house and looking over the bedridden Matthew. Regardless, Marilla always waited for her with two cups of tea as Muriel would step inside her kitchen at three-thirty in the afternoon, and always gracing Muriel with a warm smile. It always reached her eyes, deepening the lines adorning their corners ever so slightly. That smile was her brightest, Muriel knew, and it unleashed a swarm of butterflies in her stomach to be awarded with Marilla's deepest joy simply by being there with her, time and time again. Marilla would be in high spirits through their tea sessions, but on several occasions an hour of deep conversation had seemed to drain her out completely. In these instances, Muriel would usher her upstairs, arguing the importance of proper rest for rapid energy regeneration, with much protest from a determined Marilla. Sometimes she would go up to check on her, just to make sure she indeed fell asleep, before going to the field to work for a couple more hours until it's time to rouse Marilla from her afternoon slumber.

Marilla could use some time off, that much was evident. That's precisely why Muriel was heading to Green Gables early this morning. She knew that now, with harvest season done and a more or less recovered Matthew, she could persuade Marilla to agree to the plan she hatched over the last couple of days, thanks to Mrs. Lynde's and Anne's help.  
She was let in silently by Anne and hung her hat and coat on the last peg next to the door as she always does, put down her basket in the kitchen and set to work. They were busying themselves in the kitchen; Muriel with preparing a basket with lunch for two and Anne with setting the table for breakfast, trying to make as little noise as possible.  
They weren't that lucky. Halfway through preparations, the creaking of floorboards over their heads gave them a start. They were rushing through putting the last touches to the breakfast table when Marilla's questioning face peeked at them from the staircase.

"Isn't it a bit too early for our afternoon tea, Muriel?" she asked teasingly as she descended the last couple of stairs, missing the blush rising to Muriel's cheeks.  
"Well, actually, Marilla" Anne began, glaring at a suddenly awkward Muriel, "Muriel is here with a surprise!". Marilla's raised eyebrow at Anne's words turned Muriel's face entirely crimson. 

"Well, since you are overworked – and don't try to deny that" she said warningly, "I took it upon myself to keep you away from this kitchen for one day" she gestured towards the basket she brought with her, holding enough stew and shepherd's pie for lunch and supper that day. "Moreover, you need time away from Green Gables. You and I are set to spend the day leisurely by the seaside" she added with a wide smile to a stunned Marilla, "we will leave after breakfast".

Marilla was taken aback by Muriel's decisiveness. "I... don't know about that" she replied uncertainly, however, Anne was prepared for it. "Mrs. Lynde will come by in an hour and will stay with us for a while, and Jerry's here as well. Don't worry Marilla" she said encouragingly and stepped closer to her and took her hands in her own. "You need this. Please don't disappoint Miss Stacy by not going, she worked so hard to plan everything. We will be fine" she said as she squeezed reassuringly. Marilla searched for Muriel's eyes, and a feeling not entirely unfamiliar rose in her chest as she saw them sparkle. 

At that moment she knew she will never be able to deny Muriel anything.

Their drive was spent in comfortable silence mostly. Marilla, who was driving the cart, looked preoccupied with her own thoughts so Muriel took the chance to inspect her from the corner of her eye. She was learning and recording intently every detail about that side of Marilla, never have seen her indulging in such an uncommon task for women. Marilla was squinting her eyes while looking ahead, her browns frowning in concentration; her hands were griping the rains harder than what was necessary, yet her back was straight and her demeanor was calm. A few strands of hair that managed to escape her tight bun were dancing to the rhythm of the changing wind, the only motion of an otherwise still image. Yet, what intrigued Muriel most in that image was Marilla's mouth; she noticed before that whenever Marilla would be focusing on a task, she would purse her lips ever so slightly, yet now those two pink lines were entertaining a smug smile, much to Muriel's puzzlement.

"Have I grown another head since we left?" Marilla asked with amusement, "you haven't stopped staring at me once since we headed out".

Muriel blushed. Again. What is wrong with me today? She scratched at the back of her head nervously, searching for the proper words. "Well, I never saw you drive before, or any woman for that matter. Its... intriguing" _You're intriguing_ , she nearly added. Thank god her judgment saved her from her own awkwardness. 

Marilla inspected her with amusement. "I do hope I meet your expectations, Muriel" she chuckled, which made Muriel's already red face turn a dark crimson again; the teasing way her name rolled out of Marilla's mouth made her lose the ability to form any coherent sentence for a while.

The endless blue ocean greeted them happily while they ascended the road to the shore, glittering under the persistent sunglow of noon. They settled down and set to unpack their things on a picnic blanket. It was a beautiful day, and it became even more beautiful when she saw a hint of child-like happiness on Marilla's face when she glanced towards the shining water. 

"We used to come here as kids once a year, after harvest" Marilla told Muriel while they were sitting on the blanket side by side, their bare feet buried in the sand. " It was a Cuthbert tradition, as we called it back then. Our father would take me and Matthew by the hand, and we would walk in the water as deep as we could while standing, and Michel..." her fond expression turned to a pained one at the mention of his name. "After his death everything became a distant memory. It felt as if I was living someone else's life. Our family was never the same" she said quietly, as if to the blowing wind. Marilla was on the verge of tears, Muriel noted, her eyes red and filled with so much pain. She wanted to reach out for her hand at that moment, but fear of pushing at the other woman's boundaries held her back.

Marilla took a deep breath to steady herself. "Anne, bless her soul, changed so much for us and she still does. She brought back the sense of family to that house. We revived that tradition last year actually, for her. She would persist for months on end that we'd come here. She haven't been to the ocean beforehand, you see? Her adventurous mind wouldn't have left us be until we would do so" they both laughed at that, knowing full well the extent of Anne's persuasion power. 

Muriel and Marilla's eyes met for an instant, still full of laughter over Anne's amusing stubbornness. Marilla's blue depths captured her whole, drawing her inside, trapping her mind in thought of how wonderful it'll be to be greeted with this pair meeting her own every morning for the rest of time. _No Muriel, this is absurd! Think of something else!_ She lowered her gaze to Marilla's thin lips. Red and soft, her teeth slightly biting on the bottom one. This is not better, Muriel her mind chastised and chose another averting tactic for her. She stood up suddenly and unpinned her strawberry blond hair, letting it blow back with the wind while she ran towards the water.

A call of triumph released itself from her lips when the cold waves washed over her feet, "Come on Marilla! The water is so nice!" she called to her, hoping she would relent. Marilla, who stood up in surprise when Muriel did, looked unconvinced. "It's just water and salt, don't worry! Just a little dip for your feet, nothing more" she promised. To her delight, Marilla walked towards her, a bit hesitantly. She stood unsure, waiting for the next wave to wash over her waiting feet. When it did, she flinched in surprise, but soon was sighing in delight. Seeing Marilla so content by such a simple thing made her heart all but soar to the highest heights possible. "let down your hair" she requested gently. Marilla lifted a questioning brow towards her. "Just trust me" she said to Marilla, smiling reassuringly. 

And Marilla did. Her waves now released, were flowing down her back, blowing away slightly. Muriel grabbed her hands, swirling them around and both giggling with happiness. Marilla reminded her of a water nymph, her beauty turning almost mythical under the sunlight. Her graying hair shone so bright, she looked almost divine. The goddess of freedom.

She halted, as something clicked in her mind. Suddenly, it all became clear as the sky above her, her mind finally was able to voice what all this meant, without pushing it away to the back of her mind.

She fell in love with Marilla Cuthbert.

And said woman was looking back at her questioningly, yet Muriel could detect something flowering in her eyes. Some emotion so powerful and unmentionable, she felt drawn to it. Her face was a mere distance away. If she could just...

"What are we doing?" Marilla asked quietly, as she looked away from Muriel with wide and scared eyes. Muriel couldn't provide an answer to that, as she didn't really know for herself. She now knew what was it she felt and she knew it has been there, buried deeply for so long for fear of acknowledging it. But even now when it surfaced, she didn't know what to do with it, for fear of ruining everything; and there was a lot to ruin if she would cross that line.

And Marilla was drawing away from her.

Their ride home was spent in silence as if a glass wall stood between the two women, threatening to shutter if a word would be uttered. Muriel's sorrow overwhelmed her; her mind was reeling with "what if's", what to do, or not to do. She felt such profound hollowness she believed she might as well wither and die. She was about to lose her dear friend and there was nothing she could do to prevent it. For if Marilla felt as if Muriel's love for her could shred their friendship, then there was nothing Muriel could do but let them drift apart. She couldn't, and wouldn't change the way she felt for Marilla Cuthbert.

That night she cried herself to sleep, clutching the page she had torn from her notebook in a fit of rage over the unfairness of it all. Her own words devastated her in their desperation and truth:

_If I could admit it to you  
I would  
If I could say it to you  
I would  
If I could show it to you  
I would  
If I could be brave for you  
I would  
If I could not risk losing you  
I would  
If I could be loved by you  
I would  
As simple as it should_


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's 02:00 AM, and I could not go to bed before I finished, even if my eyes are on the verge of falling out.  
> It's been long-awaited and I was caught up with school and virus drama, it took too much time.   
> Well, I do hope you'll enjoy! See you soon at the final chapter!

Four months. It has been four, long, excruciating months since the last time she had seen Marilla. Well, to be correct, since the last time she has actually seen her for more than a fleeting moment at the mercantile or church. Four months since the last time they actually exchanged more than a "how do you do" out of courtesy.   
For Muriel, those four months might've just as well been four years. The so sudden shift in their relationship turned her entire world upside down. She felt numb as if that godforsaken moment on that beach drained all that made her more than a shell housing a skeleton and organs. Now she was walking around as a shadow of herself, only barely holding up.

She couldn't focus much on anything; the cheerful enthusiastic teacher her students know wasn't there anymore. Her drive to push them forward, to teach them more than the written word in a textbook vanished. They must've noticed, she knew, but besides sitting silently in class and occasionally staring at her with confused expressions, she had not many hints to how much of her misery was affecting them.

She would rarely go out of the house too, as she wanted the chance of meeting Marilla kept at a minimum . They wouldn't say much to each other when they did anyway, yet that's precisely what she wanted to avoid; the grim reminder that it all went wrong because of her own foolishness.   
Not that her feelings were foolish. There was nothing foolish about her love for Marilla, but her letting it destroy their friendship was. If only she had been more careful, tried harder to conceal the true depth of her heart none of it would have happened. Nevertheless, she was never able to succeed at that in the past. Jonah used to say "I better prepare myself I see, your heart is showing again", always with affection in his eyes, always in awe of her ability to be true to her feelings.   
However, there was something that put a hint of cheer in her heart; It was Christmas time in Avonlea.

For the upcoming holiday celebration, the children of the town were preparing a new Christmas Pantomime. Muriel was swamped with preparations and rehearsals, as Mrs. Lynde bestowed upon her the honor of directing the play since she'll be spending the holidays with her family on the mainland. Although she had quite the broad imagination, it was never tested in the performing arts. Muriel was out of her element indeed, yet she was determined to make it work. So, for the past couple of weeks she and the upper class children were meeting every day after school to discuss and write a new script for the play. It was their last Christmas before leaving for collage and Muriel was determined to put her misery away and focus on making it a memorable celebration for them.

Soon enough it was Tuesday afternoon, the day before Christmas eve and before their new play would be displayed on stage for the first time. To say that the air was buzzing with excitement and anxiety around her pupils would be a definite understatement – everyone were working hard day and night to finish building the stage, rehearsing their lines and dance routines and what not. People were coming and going from the town hall, making the entire scene seem cheerfully chaotic. Muriel let it re-energize her with life. It was always good to keep busy to avoid dealing with all that was going on inside her mind.

It didn't last very long.

It was already past six o'clock, and everyone left for their homes for supper. Everyone except Muriel, who decided to stay for a little while more to try and fix a set piece that gave in at the last minute. She was tinkering with the clasps on the back of it when she heard the main door being opened, letting in a strong gush of wind and clicking close again. She moved from where she was crutched on the floor to see who was it that came in here so late, to find no other than Marilla Cuthbert, standing with her back to the door. She was holding a pile of neatly folded costumes, her body shivering slightly from the snow that covered her shoulders and hat. 

"Oh, Muriel!" she exclaimed, "I didn't know you were still here" she said rather awkwardly, avoiding meeting her gaze. "It took me longer than I thought to mend these, but they're ready now", she gestured to the pile she had just put down on the nearest table.

Their eyes met for the first time in months, and Muriel was amazed to see that Marilla's looked... Hollow. Her eyes were red and deep dark circles developed on the bottom. They looked as if their light, the light Muriel so loved to see sparkle, has went off.

She didn't know what to think on it. Or say in response. She was out of words, so she let the silence consume them. It was truly odd, having a silence between them not being a comfortable affair.

"Well. I better be off then" Marilla said stiffly and turned to leave, and just as suddenly, Muriel's mind screamed at her – _Muriel, if you have something to say, now is the time!_

"Why?" her voice sounded so weak her eyes began to tear up from the suddenness of her intense emotions. "Why won't you talk to me anymore?"  
Marilla froze, her back to Muriel. It was Impossible to see her reaction, but Muriel detected the tension rising in her shoulders.

"Have I... What have I done wrong?" her tears fought to escape he eyes, but Muriel didn't want to let them. She fought for any little ounce of dignity left in her to take hold of her fragile soul and scold it back to place. She took a deep breath to calm herself, before deciding on what to say next.

"No. I know what I've done wrong. I've gone too far, haven't I?" she said, more to herself than to Marilla. "I have let my imagination and emotions take hold of my logic. It happens. I got so swept away in fantasy, I forgot myself. And you. And I'm so very sorry that I've hurt you. That I've ruined our friendship" she fought to keep her voice as steady as possible, " It's.. dear to me. You're dear to me more than you know." She wasn't looking at Marilla's back anymore, it was too hard to admit it out loud looking at her. Instead she chose to focus her gaze on the nearest window. The storm was picking up.

"You're not the one to blame" Marilla said finally. She turned to face Muriel and their eyes met again, both red with unshed tears.  
"It was me who shut you out. I... you..." Marilla was struggling to find the right words to express her feelings, "Fear took over me when I realized.. I realized.." Marilla's tears were flowing freely now, her struggle breaking her resolve. She put a shaky hand over her mouth, her whole body quivering with the force of trying to keep it all in. She was suffering gravely.

And Muriel couldn't handle that.

In an instant she moved closer to the shaking woman, pulling her close in a comforting hug with no hesitation. Marilla's walls instantly collapsed, now sobbing openly. Her cries teared through Muriel's heart like a spear. "Shh...Marilla. It's alright" she tried to calm her by running her fingers over her back like she did back at Green Gables.  
"No Muriel, I can't..." she said weakly, trying to release herself from Muriel's grip with no success.

"Why can't you?" Muriel asked, trying to prompt Marilla to say what she truly feels. She knew what was making her so distressed, saw it in her eyes that day on the shore. She needed to admit it herself, she knew, but fear of causing more disaster made it harder for her to do so. Admitting her feelings won't change a thing, won't it?

"Marilla, look at me" she grabbed her shoulders and forced her gaze up, her eyes boring into Marila's with a challenge. Marilla calmed down under that look, trying to gather some of the courage that she has left and all the trust she has for that extraordinary woman in front of her. 

She took a steadying breath. "Because... If I will, I won't be able to hold myself" she finally said, and relief washed over her, making her boulder. "I feel like I'm going mad. I have all this feelings I can't name. They make me feel so confused and..." she trails off, "I'm afraid I'll hurt you, Muriel. You're dear to me more than I care to admit." 

Her eyes bore into Muriel's soul, in search of something. Disgust, surely, rejection, maybe. She doesn't find any of that. Only brightness and warmth. Muriel thinks it's time to take the leap.

"I love you, Marilla Cuthbert" she whispers, and Marilla's breath hitches. "I've been in love with you since you stepped into my house to welcome me to Avonlea. You saw me as I was, with no judgment and gave way for my potential to show itself. You stood by me ever since, convincing me to fight the prejudice when I couldn't bear it", Marilla smiled fondly at the memory she was referring to. "You became my dear friend and confident and you let me in. You let me discover what a remarkable woman you are. Selfless, loving, bright, witty and passionate", Marilla's awe from hearing her words made Muriel giggle like a teenager.

"When I realized just how deep my feelings for you were, I was scared too" she confessed. She moved her palms to cup Marilla's face lovingly, "but nothing worth having will be handed down on a silver platter. I've learned throughout my short life that love is surprising, and can take any form or shape. Love is fluid and undefinable" Marilla was smiling now. "So I am scared too. But as long as I love you, that fear won't stand in my way to make you feel that love everyday for the rest of my life."

She was barely through with the sentence when Marilla leaned in and suddenly, Muriel's whole world went silent. Her lips were warm and impossibly soft, tentatively dancing over her own. It was brief but sweet nonetheless. They only parted for a moment when Muriel crushed their lips back hungrily, Marilla gladly responding with passion she never knew she possessed. It seemed as though that kiss lasted on a scope of time not discovered yet; bodies coming closer, trembling hands roaming experimentally over ribs, waist corves and necks. Muriel moved from Marilla's lips to kiss gently down her neck, making Marilla moan deliciously. 

"You make me go mad when you moan like that" Muriel said near her earlobe, and her face went white. Marilla was frozen in place.

"I'm sorry. That too much" Muriel said and pulled away from Marilla's body. Marilla's face was flushed, her lips swollen and red from kissing.

"N-no" she admitted shakily, looking at her shoes. "I just... never experienced anything like that before" she was breathless and impossibly shy now when she met Muriel's eyes again, feeling too exposed too soon.

"Hey, it's alright. I understand" she said reassuringly. "There's no rush. We will explore this one moment at a time, Ok?", she was pleased to see Marilla relax a bit and pulled her closer to her, resting her head on Marilla's chest.

"The storm's calmed a bit, we should head back" Marilla said eventually, pulling apart reluctantly. Muriel nodded in approval.

Muriel walked Marilla home, ignoring her protests. They stood awkwardly by the gate of Green Gables, not really sure how to part.   
"Would you like to spend Christmas Eve with us?" Marilla blurted out, the plea in her voice surprising them both.

Muriel smiled warmly and pecked her cheek, causing a fierce blush to appear on Marilla's face. "I would love too" she said sweetly. "Now hurry inside before we both catch our deaths!" she said, laughing at Marilla's endearing embarrassment. 

Her heart was light as the clouds for a first time in years as she came inside her house. under the faint light of the oil lamp, she sat down to write as fast as possible before her emotions will become a blur of moments memories:  
 _The woman with shining locks of night  
Will, for her heart, stand and fight  
When trust in ones heart was not tight  
She found the way and followed my light  
For today, and tomorrow, I declare   
For the fire's passion, I swear  
For the endless love for you to forever flare  
In my heart, there's nothing but a promise  
For endlessness_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That's the final one! I'm truly sorry for the long wait. I'm not a 100% satisfied with the way I wrote this, but it was due time to post it. I hope you'll enjoy this!

_The final chapter is dedicated to Lupe_merengue_

__

__

__

_I love you more than water_

The clock's hands moved too slow for Marilla's liking. It was only half-past five and Marilla's anxious efficiency made her finish all preparations way too early. Now, she was left to wait in the parlor by herself, tugging at her hair distractedly or straightening her already wrinkle-free skirt.

Matthew went out to fetch Anne from the Gillis's house, where she and the other youngsters were celebrating the success of their Christmas Pantomime and more so, their last Christmas together as classmates. So she was left alone to wait for the guests, all the while praying she won’t have to face Muriel alone. It seemed odd now, to need rescue when sharing a space with Muriel. She always felt safe and comfortable for her. Now, it seems, things have changed.

But it wasn’t Muriel who was the problem, it was herself. In the last few days, Marilla couldn’t really sort out what she was feeling. She just felt too much at once; first, there was happiness. Pure, light happiness, a direct product of love, she guessed. That was it, right? Love. She never truly felt something like this. Sure, she knows the kind of love she feels for her family, and she also remembers how it felt to love John Blythe, but this love for Muriel is of a whole different kind. Its force hit Marilla hard in her core. It made her feel breathless and hot, feeding a sudden fire that roared strongly inside her, only barely under control. That unknown force has birthed many questions in her mind, a few would even make her cheeks color and her breath to hitch. She was afraid it was all shown plainly on her face and felt oddly exposed and embarrassed in the presence of others because of it. 

Those questions would also make a part of her, a part she didn't think she possessed, very curious. She suddenly felt the absence of what she had missed in her youth; how it feels to touch. To explore. To share your heart and body with someone else. She wasn't completely oblivious, of course. Her life-long friendship with Rachel provided much useful information in that department. Yet, those experiences were not her own. And goodness, she wanted them to be. Muriel has given her hope for a second chance in personal happiness, but she was afraid that maybe it was too late for her, that maybe her body has aged too much to feel that rush of passion cursing through her. Only, that kiss she shared with Muriel proved it wrong once and for all. It ignited that passion, that numb beast inside of her. That part of her wanted to be released, even if she was scared out of her mind to let it. 

The swirl of thoughts was so loud in her mind she nearly missed the hesitant knock on the front door. She was hoping that it was Gilbert, Bash and Delphine, saving her from the possibility of being alone with Muriel.

She was out of luck.

"Hello, Marilla" Muriel greeted her with a wide smile and a faint blush on her cheeks, "You look lovely. I really like that hairdo", she commented, letting her eyes roam over her figure, what made Marilla blush fiercely. She could only manage a mumbled 'thank you' and stepped aside to let Muriel in.

They sat silently next to each other on the sofa. Muriel tried to coax some conversation out of Marilla, using safe topics such as ‘How wonderful did the kids do on the show’ or ‘How’s Matthew’s health”, but it didn't hold up. Marilla was sitting stiff as a board, not knowing how to ignore her own thoughts and be civil at the same time. She was on the verge of a panic attack, praying for someone to save her from this dreadfully slowly-dragging moment.

Thankfully, Gilbert came in just in time with the rest of the family behind him, everyone greeting each other and beaming with holiday cheer and she could busy herself with being a polite host. She didn't miss Muriel's concerned glance, though.

It was after the meal that Muriel cornered her in the kitchen while helping clear out the table. 

"Marilla, is something wrong? You've been acting very strange the whole evening" she said calmly and put a hand on her forearm. The touch sent a jolt of electricity up Marilla's spine, the shock making her jump away from Muriel's touch.

"I... it's nothing" she concluded and busied herself with washing. She felt the beast was growing inside her, refueled by Muriel's presence alone. she is too close. _I can feel her heat on my body..._  
She was snaking her hands around Marilla's waist from behind, and it made her jump away again, the plate she was washing nearly slipping away from her grip.

"Jumpy, are we?" Muriel teased with a quirk of her eyebrow, clearly not put off by Marilla's attempts at distancing. Loosing her embrace, Muriel gripped her arms gently and turned her so they could look each other in the eye.

Marilla took a big breath and tried to steady herself. She wanted to confess... to what exactly? That she was feeling too much, that there was this unnamed force within herself that made her crave-  
"Marilla, Delphine isn't feeling well so Bash and Gilbert are leaving" Anne came around the corner and halted when she saw them, eying them worriedly. "Is something wrong, Marilla?" she came closer to a now trembling Marilla, exchanging worried glances with Muriel. 

"No, I... I just don't feel very well. I think I'll retire for today" she said, avoiding Muriel's eyes. "Give them my apology and say goodbye to them from me" she said to Anne and hurried up the stairs, yearning for the safety of her cold dark bedroom.

She was trembling like a leaf, sitting with her head between her hands on her cool bed. She didn't even bother to keep the candle lit – there was no point in it. She wanted to find some comfort in the darkness, her old friend from the time she felt she was way in over her head, too broken to push forward. She found none. 

"Marilla?" a faint whisper through the door, Muriel's voice jogged her away from seeking nothingness. With not much though she got up hurriedly and yanked the door open, pulling a startled Muriel in.  
She kissed her hungrily, barely acknowledging the oil lamp Muriel held in her right hand, or the fact that the bedroom door was wide open. The kiss was bruising, teeth slightly jarring each other and biting down on lips. Muriel moaned from surprise and re-ignited arousal.

That sound was enough to coax Marilla awake from her haze. She broke off the kiss and hugged Muriel tightly, tears gathering in her eyes. Muriel put a comforting hand on her back, muttering 'it's alright, breathe' and guiding Marilla to sit on the bed. Once she was seated she turned to close the door and put the oil lamp on the nightstand near them. She sat next to Marilla and took her hand, caressing it reassuringly. 

"I'm so scared, Muriel" her voice was but a faint whisper, as though she's confessing to a sin. "The past few days have been so confusing. I feel..." she looked up to meet Muriel's eyes, "I feel this roaring fire inside me, beast-like and out of control. It's making me feel things and think things... things I shouldn't think" she blushes deeply under Muriel’s knowing gaze. Muriel thought it endearing. 

"Why do you believe you shouldn't think such things?" she asks her, but Marilla wouldn't answer. She couldn't. _what if I'll scare her away?_  
Muriel was trying to remain patient. She knew, in order to let Marilla discover that unexplored part of her life - the idea of how it feels to love someone romantically, how lusting for someone feels - she should give her all the time in the world to process.

"Does this feel wrong?" she asked gently while gently stroking her forearm, up and down, making Marilla's breath stop and her eyes to close.  
"And this?" she asked and leaned in to place a kiss on the exposed column of Marilla's neck. The Fire inside Marilla threatened to consume her whole. It begged for a release.  
"There's nothing to be afraid of, Marilla. You won't scare me off" she said earnestly, moving their faces to touch foreheads, calming their heart rates by the gentle warmth radiating from their point of connection. 

Marilla took a deep breath. "Muriel, I want to feel... you. Will you... will you show me how?" she finally found her bravery to voice what she wanted, without fearing embarrassment or rejection. It sent a pleasant jolt down Muriel's spine. 

"Yes" she whispered back and pulled Marilla closer. 

Their lips danced an urgent dance, and so did their hands. Muriel let her fingers loosen their grip on Marilla's neck, trailing them down Marilla's collar to trace the first two buttons of her blouse. Marila went to meet them there, unbuttoning the first one, granting permission for Muriel to keep going. When Muriel finally exposed Marilla's collar-bone, a moan of satisfaction escaped her mouth. It made Marilla's heart beat faster than ever before. Muriel's lips left hers and went downwards, trailing their path with feather light kisses that made her skin tingle and burn. 

Shirts, skirts, and petticoats soon were forgotten at the foot of the bed, joined by knickers and Marilla's corset. In only her chemise and bloomers, Marilla expected to feel rather exposed under Muriel’s piercing gaze. Instead it made her feel like an alluring woman, a feeling up to this day was very foreign for her. Growing up, Marilla was always aware of the sharpness of her curve-lacking body. Always too skinny, even if wiry and strong, it made her be jealous of the confident femininity Rachel and other women always seemed to possess. Now, feeling the electrifying gaze of Muriel roaming all over her body, all of her old insecurities were made insignificant. 

She was nipping at Muriel's neck now, pressing hard on the spot that made Muriel gasp and pant loudly. The sounds she evoked from Muriel made her grin wickedly as she eagerly tasted as much as possible of her skin. Muriel grabbed her by the waist and pulled them to the bed, pushing her gently on the coarse blanket, their bodies pressing flush against each other. Every curve and edge of their bodies aligned perfectly, the sensation of being so close overwhelmed their senses. 

Muriel's gaze held Marilla's steadily while her fingertips roamed free on her chemise. They were circling around Marilla's breasts lovingly, tracing down her belly until they reached the edge of her bloomers. Marilla was panting hard, anticipation making her whole body ache with need. With a final look for approval, Muriel's fingers reached underneath the delicate fabric. 

The first touch made Marilla close her eyes and gasp in surprise; a simple touch that went through her veins like an electric current, waking up every nerve end of her body. With it followed the rawest, most pure form of pleasure she'd known. With every new touch, the sensation intensified, building a tightness in the pit of her stomach. She was gasping and arching underneath Muriel, completely unrestrained. Her black hair was sprawled around her on the pillow, damp and shiny and she felt her the pressure between her own legs intensify at the sight. She knew Marilla was close. 

In a moment's decision, she stopped and removed what was left of their undergarments. Marilla's lust-filled eyes barely registered that Muriel moved to situate herself between her legs. With one sweet motion of her tongue, Marilla’s trembled frame arched one last time as she bit down hard on Muriel’s shoulder to keep herself from screaming her name. Muriel held her as her body came down from her high, only moving to brush away a few damp strands of black hair behind her ear. 

“Well, was this a satisfactory demonstration?” Muriel whispered teasingly in Marilla’s ear as she moved to hug her from behind and kissed her shoulder. Marilla laughed lightly, aware of the blush that was forming on her cheeks. A mischievous thought sprang to her mind and she turned to look in Muriel’s eyes. She pulled Muriel close and whispered back, “There’s only one way to find out”. 

The lazy sunrays of early morning touched Muriel’s delicate features as Marilla studied it. She was counting every freckle on her nose, every beauty mark, and the slight crease on her morning. No morning she ever had felt like this one. Waking up next to this extraordinary woman made her smile as her heart swelled as she absorbed her new reality; she was giving love and being loved back. Both of them lay naked in Marilla’s bed facing each other, their legs tangled in a way that made the pool of heat in Marilla’s stomach re-ignite. Her fingers moved to trace a delicate cheekbone, the light touch making Muriel stir and open her eyes. Her eyes looked at Marilla tenderly, mirroring her own happiness.  
“Good morning” Muriel whispered sweetly. She cradled Marilla’s hand and lied it over her fast-beating heart, “My love”. 

Marilla’s smile grew wider, “I’ve never been called ‘love’ before”. Muriel’s smile was just as wide. “I’m honored to be the first one”, she threaded her hand through Marilla’s hair as she leaned in, “my lady with locks made of night”. 

**Author's Note:**

> This story is still growing and evolving. I'm currently in the mids of the third chapter, so there's no real ending planned yet. If you, dear reader, can see a clearer vision of the way it ends (happily ever after, because I can't take any more death stories), make sure to suggest it.  
> What a wondrous journey!


End file.
